Of Shields and Wounds
by emmals16
Summary: Robin ponders the irony of human shields.


_**A little drabble. Nothing much :)**_

 _ **(Disclaimer: I do not own One Piece)**_

She sometimes forgets that she's on a ship in the middle of the ocean.

The lull of the planks beneath her, the salty smell of the ocean and even the occasional spray of water up on deck doesn't stir her from the thin pages encapsulating her in an entirely different world.

 _Their_ voices do, though.

And she never minds.

Even on Ohara, Robin could go hours without lifting her face towards the sun when reading a book. When she did, she found herself eager to go right back to reading. Now, she's often times eager to peer away— to take in the sight of her crew. Even two years later, nothing much has changed overall.

Ussop's and Luffy's antics still cause Nami to shout out at them from wherever she is. Zoro most often either sleeps or trains throughout the day, just as he had before. Sanji and Brook still swoon and go about their arts, and Franky still flexes his creations and himself for the others to see. Chopper seems the same as well, with only minor differences.

She's pleased and overjoyed and _so happy_ , too, that everything that she felt was most important to the crew has stayed in tact.

But then, every now and again, _something_ happens and she falters with that thought.

It could be the glance of a newspaper or the smell of burning meat. It could be a flash fire spitting out at them during a carnival or a small, red beaded necklace for sale at a stall. It seems it could be anything or everything, but everytime it causes the same reaction.

Luffy goes rigid for a split second, eyes wide— haunted. And just like that, he clears his throat, closes his eyes, and turns as though he merely chose to abandon that area.

She isn't the only one to notice. It has been mentioned before in idle conversation at times and she knows that the crew tries not to linger. They all have been through so much. They understand more than the others might think. Pain's always an old friend for them. Robin knows, she sees, and she chooses to merely think on it for a moment, and keep the thought in mind.

Robin remembers that first night after the discovery that Luffy's brother had been killed. She was worried he'd seclude himself in his grief. That the light she saw behind his eyes at every turn and the valid strength that rivaled earthquakes would disintegrate from the Earth. Foolish, she realized, that very same night. This was Luffy after all.

He isn't like her.

It had taken her years to move on from what had happened to her island. To her mother. To Saul.

As the others' voices sweep over her from the green grass of the deck nearby, Robin finds herself peering at them. At Usopp chasing Chopper in a small game of tag, at Zoro watching with a small smirk, at Sanji chasing Luffy from the kitchen in a flare of irritated emotion.

Then she finds what she was looking for.

The pink, scarred flesh splayed out for the world to see on her captain's chest. Though she feels the urge to grimace, her face remains serene.

From the wound displayed on the newspaper with Ace's dead body, and the image of Luffy's scar, it seems that they shared halves of the same wound. A front view of one body, and the back view of the other. Robin finds it poetically dark how, though Ace died and Luffy lived, pain thrived for both of them.

Robin silently closes her book and places it silently in her lap, eyes never tearing from her crew before her.

Saul had protected her at his own expense during Ohara's annihilation. He had shielded her from an impending doom. And he had smiled.

Ace had smiled, too.

How could they be so happy at a time such as that? At a time like their own deaths? When those they were protecting were horrified?

 _It's like a twisted shield,_ she decides, _one with a consequence. A price to be paid for both parties involved with the actions of one of them._

And Luffy laughs in the distance. And he laughs. And he laughs.

 _Amazing_ , she thinks with a sad glance at her captain's gleeful face, _how a loved one's loss can cause more irreparable damage and pain than any mere wound._


End file.
